


Convertable

by GlitterNova (BloodMooninSpace)



Category: Dexter (TV)
Genre: Blood, Daddy Issues, Dead Dove: Do Not Eat, Dexter Morgan is his own Warning, Dom/sub Undertones, Dubious Consent, Episode S04E09 Hungry Man, Face-Fucking, M/M, Teenage Rebellion, Under-negotiated Kink
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-03-10
Updated: 2018-03-10
Packaged: 2019-03-29 07:19:29
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Underage
Chapters: 1
Words: 992
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13922136
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BloodMooninSpace/pseuds/GlitterNova
Summary: Another way the scene with the broken convertible windshield could have gone. This is shameless filth. I would rather you didn't read it if you aren't prepared to deal.





	Convertable

**Author's Note:**

> I was rewatching Dexter and wanted Dexter/Jonah. There wasn't any, I was whining at a friend, and then this happened.

“I hate my dad, and I just, I want to --” Jonah bites back his words, and sits on the hood of his convertible. “I’m pretty sure I’m gay. At least, kissing girls did nothing for me, and I’m starting to struggle at the construction sites, with, erections. Just, those muscles, on guys shoulders as they ripple under the tight shirts, and --”

Jonah springs to his feet, paces a few steps out and back, standing in front of Dexter. “I don’t even know why I’m telling you this.”

“You don’t?” Dexter asks. 

“Yeah, I do. Your shirts cling to your arms, and I just keep imagining what it would feel like if --” Jonah’s cheeks pick up a blush as he bites his lip, and reaches back to scratch at the back of his head. He sucks in a quick breath, looks Dexter in the eye, and brashly continues. “I keep imagining what it would feel like if someone with your muscles, they grabbed me and put me on my knees.”

There is a moment, where Dexter can’t react. There is too much to parse from what the boy just said. Then, Dexter steps forward, and grabs Jonah, spinning him and catching him in a familiar tight hold. Dexter is acutely aware of the syringe in his pocket, of the next steps in the dance this hold has so often begun. 

“Like this?” Dexter asks the question, low and calm, his breath warm and wet against Jonah’s ear.

“Fuck yes.” Jonah gasps out the words, his hips hitching as he relaxes backward into Dexter.

Dexter looks down along the boy's body, and there, in his cargo shorts, is a bulge, in the hard line of the boy's dick. Dexter reaches down with one hand and gives the bulge a firm squeeze. 

“What else did you imagine?” Dexter recognizes this voice. His Dark Passenger only comes out to play when he is on the hunt, when he is preparing a kill, when he is talking to his victims. Jonah is not going to die tonight, so why has the Dark Passenger come out to play?

“That you make me suck your dick, please, make me suck your dick.” Jonah’s pulse is racing, and Dexter can feel it under the palms of both of his hands, at Jonah’s groin and throat. 

Dexter slides his hand up from Jonah’s groin, and under the boy's shirt. He works the shirt up and over Jonah’s head, and backward along his arms, using the t-shirt to roughly bind the boy's hands together behind his back. A leg sweep puts Jonah on his knees in the dirt. 

Dexter walks around Jonah, and the boy looks more relaxed than he has been in the last few times that Dexter has seen him. Dexter puts his thumb on the boy's lip, presses. Slides his thumb past the boy’s lips, glides it over his teeth to dig into the hinge of his jaw.

“You want me to make you suck my dick?” Dexter asks in a slow and measured tone, as he uses his other hand to tangle in Jonah’s hair, pry the boy's mouth open and rub his thumb across the back of Jonah’s tongue. “Sure.”

Dexter lets go of the boy and reaches down to undo his fly. Jonah’s eyes are a little glazed, his breathing is heavy, and he is staring straight at Dexter's cock as Dexter frees it from his pants and underwear. 

Dexter isn’t fully soft, but he wouldn’t say he is much past a slight chub. Jonah’s mouth is still hanging open just like Dexter left it. Dexter pushes in, and in, pulling Jonah forward to meet him. When Dexter can feel the head of his cock pressing at the back of Jonahs throat, Dexter can feel the boy gag, and fight. Jonah tries to yank back, but Dexter holds him and ends up sharply thrusting into Jonah’s mouth, catching the boys top lip between Dexter’s dick and Jonah’s teeth, and stabbing the back of Jonah’s throat. Jonah yanks back, his body spasming as he tries to cough, and Dexter is left with a smear of blood on his cock. A smear of bright red blood, Jonah’s blood, right on his cock.

Dexter can feel his blood rush to his cock, and he feels the overwhelming need to come.

Jonah is still hacking when Dexter grabs his hair and wrenches his head up. Dexter can’t read the expression on Jonah’s face, but it doesn't matter. He asked for Dexter to make him suck a dick. Skullfucking is close enough, right?

Dexter shoves his thumb into Jonah’s mouth, and again, wrenches his jaw open. This time, Dexter slowly feeds his cock to the boy, into his throat, even as Jonah starts to gag and thrash, Dexter just shifts to these tiny little thrusts giving Jonah just enough relief from the pressure that the boy can’t adjust. 

When Jonah’s eyes start watering, Dexter presses in deep and bottoms out, holding Jonah tight against his pubic bone, Jonah’s head forced to an odd angle with Dexter's thumb hooked under Jonah’s bottom teeth. 

Thirty seconds of earnest thrusting later, and Dexter is coming. He’s pulling back for another thrust when his orgasm takes him by surprise, he never manages to come this fast --

Dexter is buried in Jonah’s face when he notices the come leaking out of Jonah’s nose. Dexter can feel another pulse of come dribble out of his dick and into Jonah’s throat in response.

Dexter pulls back, and when he lets go of Jonah, Dexter is shocked to see the boy smile. Dexter looks down, and --

Jonah has creamed his shorts. There is a wet stain, gloriously evident on the light khaki. 

Even with his lungs heaving, and his breathing ragged between coughs, Jonah is beaming. 

“That was --” the boy starts, and then stops. Licks his lip. Swallows. “That was amazing, sir. Could we do this again, like, soon?”


End file.
